Evening is the soft time between daylight and dark. A downy soft pillow. Cares float away with the work of the day. A new tomorrow is on its way. Our days are filled with plans. What will we do in a week, a month, or a year? We play our part on Life’s Stage. When we forget our lines, we ad-lib. Some of us ad-lib more than others.

What do we do when the going gets tough? Verbal stones hurt. We swear that they do not, but they do. Some of the wounds we feel for a lifetime. We go along and get along. No one wants to rock the boat. It has been said, ‘Sit down, you are rocking the boat.’ So we hide away and give ourselves some rest. We cruise while others work 18 hours a day to keep us in the lap of luxury. We are creatures of the lap. The lap is warm and secure.

We watch as classes of people are stamped and verified as undesirable. The law does not apply to them. Human decency is for others. Here illegally, they cry, bounce them and their kids with cancer out of our precious country…as we hide from the painful sight. We know all the nasty information when the sword of Damocles hangs over our perceived enemies. When our favorite leaders are guilty of wrong, we have not heard about it, and do not believe it is fake news.

Convenient ignorance is comforting. Life in a bubble is fun. Children cry with fear and dread. It is hard to hear over the therapeutic music of the ocean waves.

Christmas is coming, but the goose is not getting fat. This year, the goose is on a diet. Trinkets from overseas were so reasonable that it made you want to purchase trinkets. Now the bill is triple the cost of the goods. Good government, or as Uncle Gene often told me, ‘Get the point…Get the point.’ Tariffs in this study cost the consumer 3 times more than before the tariff. So it is with Christmas. Contrary to popular belief, not all Santa’s Toys come from the North Pole. About 90% come from China. Or as the President said, kids may now have one or two dolls rather than 30.

Hide, we do as the storm grows in intensity. We are on the beach sitting with the latest novel. In the distance, we see the waves coming onto shore. The beach is so peaceful and inviting. The gentle lapping of the waves. What is that locomotive we hear? Certainly, there are no trains on the beach, we say. Pour another Fireball; the cinnamon goodness is a smooth comfort in these troubled times. The roar is louder now, and people closer to the ocean seem to be running toward the condos. ‘Look at that, it is a wall of water,’ He said. ‘I bet the surfers are having fun,’ He said. ‘It will be quite a jolt when the wave crashes and you are on top of it with your surfboard,’ He says.

‘How could this happen?’ She asked. ‘We purchased the vacation insurance,’ She said. ‘Apparently, some disasters can not be hidden from,’ She commented.

‘Stay in the attic and be very quiet, the Nazis are coming and you must not make a sound,’ Miep told Anne.